


Leather and Cologne

by Exorin



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Character Study, Chuck Hansen Needs a Hug, Daddy Issues, Drifting, Emotions, Gen, Kid Chuck Hansen, The Drift (Pacific Rim), first drift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 21:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13466559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exorin/pseuds/Exorin
Summary: Chuck Hansen, character study, his first drift with Herc.





	Leather and Cologne

 

Chuck feels the jolt go through him, straight up his spine, a buzzing at the base of his skull. They were right, it’s completely different than the training exercises, not that he’ll ever admit that.  
  
Herc is beside him. Not his father - that man hadn’t been his father for years- he's plugged into the other end of the Pons device, standing straight and looking calm even though Chuck can see his thumb tapping against his closed fist, over and over again, old habits going strong. Nervous.  
  
Striker Eureka is steady, steel beneath his feet, new and beautiful and more grounding than anything else in the conn-pod. She was what he’d been building his whole life towards- the old man beside him was a bit of a surprise, but he’d take what he could get to be out there, on the field, in the fastest Jaeger the world would ever see.  
  
“Initiating neural handshake."  
  
The words buzzed over the interface, matching the feel of the plugin along his spine, "Ready?” Herc said, turning to look at him.  
  
“Worry about yourself, old man.”  
  
He didn’t look back, letting the surge take him, spinning, into the Drift.  
  
He was nine years old again.  
  
It was three days before his tenth birthday, blue tinted and the kitchen smelled like baking- like cookies and chocolate and the soft undertones of his mothers perfume.  
  
She had the radio on in the living room, he could hear the melody of a song he can no longer remember the name of, something pop-like and undoubtedly terrible.  
  
She’s beautiful when she leans down to brush the flour off of his cheek (when did that get there?), bright, lovely, her smile reaching the corners of her eyes, “If we keep eating the batter there won’t be any cookies.”  
  
He’s pushed gently from the room, somewhere he can hear someone saying, shouting, “Don’t chase the rabbit!"  
  
A dish breaks, remnant cookie dough on the tiled floor, the radio’s not playing music anymore, there’s a man speaking- rushed, scared, loud noise is everywhere, something’s burning in the kitchen.  
  
The tv is on, a movie, no, his Mom looks panicked, it must be the news. The phone is ringing, again and again and she’s holding him, her hand trembling on the top of his head, "Yes. Yes Herc, we’re fine, we’re halfway around the world, we’ll be okay. Come home soon. I love you.”  
  
“Chuck.”  
  
There’s a monster on the screen.  
  
“Chuck!”  
  
It twists away from him, he wants to stay, but he follows the Drift instead.  
  
The ground is shaking  
  
He’s at the window, even if he should be huddled under his desk like the rest of his classmates are under theirs- the teacher is yelling at him to move (what was her name again?) but he can’t, he’s stuck, terrified.  
  
It’s huge, even from this distance, just surfacing along the coast- so incredibly loud that the window glass is rattling under his palms, the whole city looks like its trembling around them.  
  
He watches the planes fly overhead, useless little things that explode in quick flashes on the horizon. He cries for his dad, shouts, kicks and screams when he’s finally pulled away from the window.  
  
It smells like leather, like cologne, a pair of arms wrapped around his stomach, “Chuck, hey, I’ve got you, I’ve got you, we’re getting out now.”  
  
They’re in the air when the second bomb goes off (was there a first? He can’t remember)- the monster is falling just as the dust, the wind, the debris hits the helicopter. His dad still has him, tucked under his chin and holding tight when he realizes that she’s not there, that mom’s not there.  
  
“Chuck, stop chasing it.”  
  
He’s screaming and trying to push away, calling out for her, even as the city burns beneath them- why isn’t she here? What did he do?! “What did you do!!” he shouts, his throat hurts, his eyes burn from the smoke that’s rising around them, “I hate you. I HATE YOU. Take us back. Mom! Mommy! Please, please take us back."  
  
"Chuck.”  
  
Everything hurts.  
  
“Chuck!”  
  
He can’t breathe.  
  
“Chuck!!”  
  
He’s seizing.  
  
He can smell leather and cologne, burnt cookies- the floor is cold, solid steel beneath him and Herc’s arms are around his shoulders, “Chuck. Come back, come on.”  
  
Chuck pushes away, his body hurts, his eyelashes feel damp, wet against his cheeks, “Why,” he hates the sound of his voice, the way it cracks down the middle, “why’d you have to save me instead of her?”  
  
Herc doesn’t answer, or he can’t- they sit across from each other in silence as Striker powers down around them.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

>  _This was originally written circa 2013 as part of JaegerCon -- but I re-watched PacRim today and had to dig it out from the archives just to post again. It's one of the few non-smut fics that I'm actually weirdly proud of. It also makes me incredibly emotional to think about the Hansen Family_
> 
> find me on tumblr at [exorin](http://exorin.tumblr.com).


End file.
